Nightlights
by princ3ssf33t
Summary: Roy isn't sleeping well anymore, and that's something he can't hide from his sharp-eyed lieutenant. Written for Royai Week 2017. Theme: Light/Darkness.


It was well past midnight and they are still working in the office.

Working into the early morning hours aren't something that happens once in a blue moon anymore now that Roy had received a promotion from Führer Grumman to a general. There was so much paperwork that needed to be handled promptly, and none of it could be afforded to be postponed. For more than one night, Roy would find himself sleeping face-down on his desk or somehow staggering to one of the sofas he had in front of his desk. The lieutenant—no, _Captain_ —even had a blanket tucked in the bottom drawer for nights such as this one.

Roy yawns and transfers the packet he had been working though—authorizing what was inside with his sloppy signature—to the completed pile and glances down at his pocketwatch. His vision is too blurry to read the numbers and rubs his eyes with his other hand to attempt to get them to readjust.

"Is everything alright sir?"

He jerks his head up quickly, in an attempt to give the illusion he wasn't falling asleep at his desk. Roy blinks at whoever entered the room. It takes a few moments for the dark spots to fade from his vision, but the sight that awaits him is a worthwhile one indeed. His captain, jacket shed with a steaming cup of tea in her hands, stood just inside the door.

"Of course, why wouldn't it be?" His eyes fight to close, and he smiles at her.

"Because that is not your pocketwatch in your hands. That is the container of shoe polish that Havoc brought in today to shine his boots."

Blinking rapidly in attempts to clear his brain in order to properly process what his captain said, Roy looks down at his hand. Sure enough, there it was. Havoc's small container of shoe polish. Luckily for him the lid was still secured tightly. Getting the black polish out of his uniform was have been nearly impossible to get out.

Quickly, Roy sets the polish down and slides it across his desk, away from him and away from the finished paperwork he had spent his whole evening on. He stares at it like a snake ready to strike.

"Sir, perhaps you should head home and rest. You have the meeting with the Führer and the foreign ambassadors from Creta tomorrow, and it would be best if you weren't half dead on your feet for it."

Hawkeye's boots clip the tile with precision as she walks further into the room to stand at his side. By the time she arrives at his side, Roy has already grabbed another paper from the pile of unfinished work and is staring down at swimming words. It was something about allocating more money in the budget for better restaurants offered during in-house meetings between the officers.

At least that's what he thought it said.

Hawkeye's hand reaches across the paper, blocking the text, and gently pries the paper away from him. She returns it to the pile he had not gotten too, and she grabs his hands in hers and kneels next to him. Her gaze is steady and knowing as she connects with his eyes.

"How much sleep have you been getting these past few weeks, General?"

Roy makes a noise in the back of his throat. He wasn't sure. Hell, he wasn't even sure when the last time he had actually slept in his bed, rather than passing out on the nearest horizontal surface in his apartment.

" _Sir_."

Her voice has gone soft and he could nearly melt right there in his office chair listening to it. But this is not the place to allow his guard to be dropped so easily. Even if the likelihood of anyone being in Headquarters, let alone in this wing, is near zero, they had agreed that their feelings did not belong within these walls. Her voice should not have taken that tone, she should not be looking at him with those big amber eyes filled with affection, and she most definitely not be clinging to his hands like her life depended on it.

But perhaps he was the one that was clinging. He had been told for years that he had the tendency to do that.

"What is it?" She prompts again.

Roy looks away. He thought he could figure it out on his own. He was a grown man, a recently promoted general in the Amestrian military, he should be able to handle the small demons that haunted him in the night. He had managed to shoulder and face the heavy burdens that had come with what he did in Ishval, _this_ shouldn't be a problem.

He feels her unwavering gaze and her patience. This woman is a blessing that he can't comprehend how he managed to have at his side through it all.

"It's too dark," he mutters into the epaulet on his shoulder. "It's too dark, and I can't see."

He would like to continue on. He would like to explain that every time he flips the light off, he's drowning, lost in a swirl of memories and fragments of sensation that leaves him with vertigo until he fumbles until he manages to turn the light on again. But his throat closes.

Hawkeye squeezes his hands tightly for a moment, before reaching up and directing his face to look at her. Her hand remains on his cheek and her thumb makes small circle motions along his cheekbone. She understands. She doesn't say any words, but he knows she understands. She always did.

"I have some spare nightlights I would be willing to share, if you're interested."

A real smile spreads across Roy's face. He knows this. As a child Riza had been afraid of the dark and small lamps and candles would be lit in nearly every room of the Hawkeye house. The number of lamps decreased as she grew up, but there was always one somewhere nearby when she slept.

But he hears the code and he's relieved. Roy didn't think he would have the strength enough to ask for what she offers him. Because even with a small lamp to cast the darkest shadows away, they don't hold a candle to the light she brings him.

"I would like that very much, Captain."

She nods, stands, and gathers her things. They are done with paperwork for the night. Riza pauses at the door, and smiles generously back at the general. Then as quickly as the smile appeared, it's gone along with her.

Roy rubs his eyes once again before he gets up and grabs his coat. Riza would be waiting for him to arrive at her apartment within the next half hour. There she'll have a warm cup of tea ready for him at the table, and his pajamas folded and ready at the end of her bed.

He could already feel the rejuvenation a night simply sleeping at her side would bring.


End file.
